


Sudden and New

by iamhollsteintrash



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5789389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamhollsteintrash/pseuds/iamhollsteintrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashlyn Harris and Ali Krieger are neighbors, Ali Krieger gets on Ashlyn's nerves, until a kind gesture brings them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sudden and New

Ashlyn Harris considers herself a friendly enough person. Maybe a little short-tempered at times – the by-product of being the youngest child and the only daughter – but a friendly person. She’s fairly popular in the building she lives in with her college friend Whit, and while that may be because she brings free coffee from the shop she owns to board meetings, she likes to think it’s also because she’s a peach to get along with.

 

She liked her old next door neighbors – a cute enough gay couple. One worked at a tech start-up, the other was a florist. They were nice guys, even if she did sometimes hear their bedsprings creaking if she came home late and the TV was off. But they moved after their wedding, something about starting a family. And when the new neighbors moved in, Ashlyn had leaned against the doorframe of her two bedroom in gym shorts and a t-shirt, hair tied up off her neck in the August heat, waiting for them to appear.

 

When a tall, leggy brunette, wearing spandex and a t-shirt and sneakers, finally steps foot on the third floor of the walk-up holding a box full of what looks like table settings, Ashlyn’s heart jumps in her chest. She is beautiful, more beautiful than Ashlyn had expected. The new neighbor balances the box on her knee while digging in her back pocket for the key. Ashlyn jumps up, taking quick strides down the hall.

 

“Do you need help?” she asks, bending to pull the box from the new neighbor’s arms. The brunette holds tightly though, shaking her head, even as her hair falls in her face.

 

“I’m fine, thank you,” the stranger says, her voice tight and smile tighter.

 

“Are you sure? I can help.”

 

“No, thank you,” the brunette says, briskly pulling the key from her pocket and shoving it in the lock. Ashlyn hears heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, followed by a man, tall with features Ashlyn can only describe as _square_ , with dark eyes and crew cut hair, carrying three boxes.

 

“Did you get in okay? Key works?” he calls to the open door of the apartment; which Ashlyn resists the urge to peek into.

 

“Yep, all good!”

 

The man places the boxes on the ground in the foyer of the apartment before using his t-shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead and stepping back into the hallway. He extends a (square) hand to Ashlyn. Ashlyn takes it, trying to match the firmness of his handshake and maybe overcompensating a little.

 

“Hi, I’m Paul.”

 

“Ashlyn. I live in 4.”

 

“So we’re next door neighbors,” Paul says with a bright smile.

 

“Looks that way!”

 

“Alex, sweetheart,” he calls into the apartment, and Alex, the brunette, takes a second to emerge, her long hair tied up in a bun. “This is Ashlyn. She’s our next door neighbor.” Ashlyn extends a hand, which Alex takes.

 

“I’m Ali, nice to meet you.”

 

Paul shakes his head. “Sorry, sometimes I forget. She goes by Ali most of the time.”

 

Ashlyn makes a point to look at Alex – Ali – and not Paul, who’s taken to speaking for her. “Nice to meet you too. We live right next door, me and my friend Whitney. If you guys ever want to come over for dinner or something, just knock. One of us is usually around. I know it’s hard to cook and stuff when you’re moving.”

 

Paul nods. “You’ve got that right.”

 

Leaning against the wall, Ashlyn tries to take stock of the couple. Ali isn’t wearing a ring. “So. First apartment together?”

 

They both nod.

 

“That must be exciting. What do you folks do?”

 

Ali cozies up to Paul, resting a hand on his chest and opening her mouth to speak before Paul speaks first.

  
“I’m an investment banker, Ali is a lawyer.”

 

Ashlyn raises her eyebrows. “Sounds riveting.”

 

“And what do you do?” Ali asks pointedly.

 

“I own a coffee shop a few blocks down.”

 

Ali clears her throat and Ashlyn shifts awkwardly on the balls of her feet. She doesn’t like type A business people unless they’re spending money in her shop. In fact, she rarely even likes them then.

 

“Well, it was nice to meet you. Like I said, you’re completely welcome over any time, if you need a break or want help.”

 

“Thanks, Ashlyn,” Paul says, already turning to head back down the stairs. Ali holds Ashlyn’s eyes for a second too long before following him, and Ashlyn returns to her apartment feeling ever so slightly uneasy.

 

That night, Ashlyn hears the bedsprings creak for what can’t be more than a minute. She has to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud before turning over in bed to fall asleep. _Straight people._

 

\--

 

 

“I swear to _fucking_ God,” Ashlyn yells, slamming the door so hard that Whit nearly falls out of the kitchen chair. “If I have to talk to the woman across the fucking hall one more goddamn time, I’m moving.”

 

Whit rolls her eyes. “Like you’d pay for an apartment by yourself.”

 

Ashlyn holds up a hand. “Not now. Do you know what she said to me today? As I’m walking down the hall, obviously completely _haggard_ after a day of work?”

 

Whit shakes her head, covering her mouth with one hand to hide a smirk.

 

“She pops her little head out of the door and goes,” Ashlyn puts on a nasally voice. “‘You know, I almost slipped on your skateboard today. You should really be more careful where you leave it.’ All snooty.”

 

Ashlyn pauses, pouring a glass of water from the refrigerator and taking a sip before speaking again. “And you know, I would completely understand if I left it, like, laying out in the middle of the hall. But it was propped up against the wall and it’s _still_ there so I know she didn’t actually almost trip on it. She just doesn’t like that there’s people in this building who don’t have little Bluetooth headsets clipped to our ears all the time.”

 

Ali and Paul have lived in the apartment next door for two months, never taking up Ashlyn’s invitation for dinner. They get along splendidly with Whit, on the rare occasion that they run into her in the hall. Whit seems to always have something nice to say about either Paul or Ali. But business minded people tend to think the same, and even as an executive assistant, Whit knows how to talk to business people.

 

Paul is always warm enough to Ashlyn, even if it is in a weird, arm’s length kind of way. On the other hand, when Ashlyn tries to trade smiles or friendly glances with Ali, she’s all but ignored. Except, of course, when Ali has something to say.

 

 _Can you turn your music down?_  


_I almost tripped on your skateboard._ (which is a _longboard_ , for the record)

 

_Can you let us know when you’re having a party so we aren’t surprised?_

 

Some of it is reasonable, Ashlyn knows that. But she can’t look past the tight-lipped smile Ali gives after she says something she knows Ashlyn will get annoyed at. And maybe if Ali was willing to make a little bit more small talk, instead of poking her head out when she hears Ashlyn’s boots in the hall, Ashlyn would be more inclined to listen. But instead, she turns her music up just a little bit, throws parties that are just a little bit more rowdy, and considers leaving more than one longboard in the hall.

 

“All I’m saying is,” Ashlyn says, after another gulp of water. “I don’t complain to her about listening to their lackluster sex life every night. At ten PM sharp, every single night, I have to hear them squeak for all of thirty seconds. Maybe that’s why she’s so uptight.”

 

“Ash,” Whit says, clicking her tongue. “Be nice.”

 

Ashlyn shrugs, spinning on her heel to head towards her bedroom, continuing to speak as she changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Poor girl’s probably never come in her goddamn _life,_ ” she yells, hopefully just loud enough for Ali to hear next door.

 

Whit rolls her eyes when Ashlyn re-emerges, sliding her phone into the pocket of her pants. “How was work?”

 

“Fucking terrible. Two of my baristas didn’t show up, we were only able to replace one, so I’ve been making latte art since like 10AM. My hand is cramped from making flowers. One jag off drank his entire cup of coffee before coming back to the register to tell me he actually wanted it to go and demanded a new cup for free. Plus we’re running out of milk and the dairy isn’t delivering until the end of the week so I’ve been sending people on grocery runs during the day to get us through the next two days.”

 

Ashlyn settles onto the couch, crossing her legs underneath her. “How was your day?”

 

“Fine, more or less just all of the same. I might be up for a promotion in a few months, if everything goes okay.”

“What’s that mean for you?”

 

Whit shrugs, tossing her blonde hair off her shoulder. “I stop buying coffee and taking minutes and making appointments for my boss and start buying coffee and taking minutes and making appointments for his boss.”

 

“Hm.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Are you thinking about other jobs? Applying for anything new?”

 

“There’s some stuff I guess. But I have time when I come home to work on my book. I have to pay the bills.”

 

Ashlyn nods. They order pizza that night and commiserate over their shitty jobs, and Ashlyn’s almost forgotten about the bickering with Ali when she settles in bed to watch Netflix on her laptop. But then, at 10:01, she hears the headboard next door hit the wall and what must be Ali let out an almost keening moan. Ashlyn wrinkles her nose, pulling her headphones over her ears.

 

\--

 

Ashlyn throws a lot of parties in her building. When she first bought the coffee shop, she would throw them at the end of every fiscal quarter to reward her employees for keeping the shop afloat. It built camaraderie within the shop. But then she started to get complaints from her neighbors, and took the opportunity to invite everyone in the hall – thankfully they live in a young building – through papers slipped under the door. After that, they became free for alls, with Whit inviting half her office and Ashlyn inviting some customers in the shop. They usually fill the apartment and spill into the hallway, and Ashlyn is usually able to rope in a girl or two who will spend the night.

 

When Ashlyn and Whitney decide to throw a party six months after Ali and Paul move in, they take one look at their door while slipping fliers through the hallway and decide silently to skip it. Ashlyn and Ali’s relationship hasn’t improved by much, and although it’s mostly Ashlyn doing the ignoring now (to keep her blood pressure low), she has no interest in working on it.

 

The night of the party, as 1AM ticks closer, Ashlyn is too drunk to fully comprehend why Ali is standing in front of her. Her ears are ringing, and she’s whispering incredibly inappropriate things in the ear of one of Whit’s coworker’s friends when she feels a firm hand on her shoulder. She spins, expecting Whitney to be trying to get her attention, only to find Ali.

 

 “Ali! What are you doing here?” Ashlyn exclaims, face splitting into a grin. Ali is scowling, and drags Ashlyn through the apartment into the hallway, where it’s quieter.

 

“I need this,” Ali says, pointing at Ashlyn’s apartment door. “To stop.”

 

“You need what to stop?” Ashlyn slurs, trying to decide whether or not to pick a fight with her neighbor, who somehow looks beautiful even in the harsh lights of the hallway.

 

“All of it. The loud music, the parties.”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking spoilsport, you’d get invited.”

 

“I don’t want to get invited!” Ali yells, before taking a deep breath to calm down. “I don’t want to get invited. I want you to be respectful of your neighbors.”

 

“I have some news for you,” Ashlyn says, stepping closer to Ali, who doesn’t back away, even when she can all but taste the liquor on Ashlyn’s breath. Ashlyn is almost sure she can smell booze on Ali, which explains the ballsy move. “Everyone who lives on this floor besides you and your fucking boyfriend is in that apartment. I am respecting them.”

 

“Well you’re not respecting me.”

 

“It’s a good thing I care a lot less about you than you care about me.”

 

Ali’s eyes narrow. “I don’t care about you unless you’re hurting my quality of life. Which you _always_ are.”

 

Ashlyn steps back, not even trying to hide her smirk. “You care enough about what I think to fake your orgasms.”

 

Ali blushes bright red. “How dare you.”

 

Ashlyn knows she’s probably gone too far, but she can’t stop what’s coming out of her mouth.

 

“All I’m saying is I hear you through the wall every single night, as much as I don’t fucking want to, and, like, it sounds shitty. And I yelled once about how I feel,” Ashlyn clears her throat. “Bad for you and your shit sex life. And then I heard the most fake orgasm I’ve ever heard in my life. Not that I’ve heard many. But you deserve better. And maybe if you actually had one, you wouldn’t be such a bitch all the time.”

 

Ali’s mouth is hanging open. “You’re out of control. You know me from a few minor interactions and whatever bullshit you hear through the wall and now you’re giving me sex advice?”

 

Ashlyn shrugs. “I’m not going to apologize. I think a girl should get what she wants.”

Ali folds her arms. “Well I want you to apologize. And end this stupid party.”

 

“Well then I’m sorry,” Ashlyn says quietly, spinning on her heel and returning to her apartment and, as promised, brings the party to a screeching halt. 

\--

 

Ali and Paul have been moved in for nine months when the fighting starts. Well, the fighting that Ashlyn and Whit can hear. Paul’s voice is dominant most of the time, and just muffled enough for them to be able to ignore what they’re saying. But some nights, Ashlyn can hear Paul’s fist hit the wall and the pictures hanging on her wall shake.

 

It takes everything Ashlyn has not to charge down the hall and bang on the door and take a swing at Paul. He’s got at least five inches on Ali and is obviously strong, and while Ashlyn has no doubt that Ali can handle herself, she still has a white knight complex she needs to suppress.

 

“Do you think you’re going to break up?” Whitney asks softly one night, when Paul’s deep voice is muffled through the wall as they eat dinner, a stir fry that Ashlyn threw together when she got home from work.

 

Ashlyn shrugs.

 

“If they do, who do you think is going to keep the apartment?”

 

“I hope it’s Paul. At least he’s nice,” Ashlyn says, shoveling rice into her mouth.

 

“I hope it’s Ali,” Whitney says with a shrug. “Maybe you’ll get along a little better if she doesn’t have a boyfriend.

 

Ashlyn rolls her eyes. “Single or not, she needs to get the stick up her ass surgically removed before we can get along.”

 

As if on cue, the pictures on the wall shake as the door is slammed. Ashlyn runs to the door, cracking their front door open ever so slightly, not sure what she’s hoping to see. The heavy footsteps moving down the stairs are definitely Paul’s.

 

That night, when Ashlyn goes to sleep, she’s pretty sure she can hear Ali’s sobs heaving through the wall.

 

After hanging up her apron at work the next day, Ashlyn decides to bring home an extra cup of coffee. On really bad days, she usually brings home a cup of her favorite brew home, but tonight she pours two, waving to her baristas on the way out the door. She keeps one hand on the cupholder to keep any from spilling in the car as she drives home, one hand haphazardly on the wheel for the quick ride.

 

She brings both cups up the stairs of the building, feeling summer sweat pooling at the base of her neck as she approaches her floor. When she reaches the door, she knocks lightly, waiting a minute before knocking again, a little harder. This time Ali opens the door, the chain attached keeping her from opening it all the way. She peeks out, and even the little Ashlyn can see of her is a mess. Her eyes are red and she looks like she’s being held together by Ben & Jerry’s and bad romantic comedies.

 

“What do you want?” Ali says, her tone cold. “Salt in the wound?”

 

Ashlyn looks down at her feet, before holding up a cup of coffee. “I thought maybe you could use someone to hang out with and a cup of coffee. Best coffee in DC, I promise.”

 

“You’re not here to call me stuck up? Or make fun of me?” Ali’s eyes narrow.

“Ali,” Ashlyn sighs. “I’m not always the nicest but I wouldn’t set out to hurt you when you’re like this.”

 

“Hold on.”

 

Ali closes the door and Ashlyn hears her remove the chain before opening the door fully.

 

“You can come in,” Ali says softly, stepping away from the door and heading deeper into the apartment. Ashlyn steps in, noting how differently it looks since the last time she was in it. The lines are clean, the furniture is modern. There’s a lot of white – the walls, the tables. It feels more like a display home than an actual apartment.

 

“Wow,” Ashlyn breathes.

 

“What?”

 

“You actually live here?”

 

Ali sighs. “I know. Paul really liked this type of design but it drives me crazy. It’s hard to keep white furniture clean.”

 

“You could always redecorate.”

 

Ali shrugs, tears brimming in her eyes as she settles on the couch. Ashlyn rushes over, sitting down beside her and placing an unsure hand on her knee. “Too soon, I’m sorry. Do you want to, like, talk about it? I’m really bad at this comforting thing.”

 

Ali reaches for the coffee Ashlyn placed on the table, ignoring Ashlyn’s question. “I was just watching _Love, Actually,_ ” she says, pointing at Hugh Grant’s face frozen on her TV.

 

“It’s May,” Ashlyn says, laughing.

 

“Yeah but everyone is miserable for so much of it.”

 

“Good point.”

 

They settle in silence, quietly sipping their coffee as the loosely linked love stories play out on the screen. When the credits roll around 8PM, Ashlyn pipes up.

 

“I heard the directors think none of them had a happy ending when it was really all sorted out.”

 

“Good,” Ali murmurs, eyes half closed.

 

“Are you done with your coffee?”

 

Ali nods. Ashlyn takes her cup and wanders into the kitchen, searching for a garbage can, walking softly as though there’s eggshells under her feet.

 

“Under the sink,” Ali calls from the living room. Sure enough, there’s the garbage can. Ashlyn straightens up after tossing their cups.

 

“I guess I should go.”

 

“Do you want to stay for another movie?”

 

“Do you want me to?”

 

Ali doesn’t respond for a second. “Please.”

 

When Ashlyn returns to the couch, Ali is chewing on her cuticle, scrolling through a list of movies on the TV. She settles on _Legally Blonde._ Ashlyn can’t help but laugh. Ali smiles weakly. “It’s a guilty pleasure.”

 

“How true is it to real life?”

 

“To law school?” Ali snorts. “Hardly.”

 

They watch the movie in relative silence save for when Ali can’t hold in a little giggle that Ashlyn can’t help but find adorable and when the credits roll again, Ashlyn looks over at Ali to find her asleep, snoring softly.

 

“Hey Ali,” Ashlyn says softly, trying to gently shake her. “Ali, wake up. Alex.”

 

When Ali finally stirs, she looks at the TV. “Oh, I slept through the end.”

 

“Like you don’t have it memorized. I saw you mouthing the words,” Ashlyn says with a wink. “I’m going to head home if that’s okay.”

 

“Yeah, absolutely,” Ali nods. “This was nice. Thank you.”

 

“I didn’t do much,” Ashlyn says with a soft smile. “But I’m glad it helps. I’m around anytime.”

 

“How about tomorrow?” Ali asks sheepishly, looking at her fingernails.

 

“I can… I can do tomorrow. What time do you get home from work?”

 

“Probably around six.”

 

“I’m off at four. I can cook if you want.”

 

“That would be nice.”

 

“Okay,” Ashlyn says, trying not to grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

 

\--

 

They fall into a comfortable rhythm, with Ashlyn coming home every day for two weeks, whether it’s with groceries or coffee, changing into sweatpants in her apartment, and then going next door to Ali’s. She cooks, and in the beginning Ali just sits on the couch, texting or tweeting or staring at the TV. But eventually, she joins Ashlyn in the kitchen, first just watching Ashlyn cook, then taking over some of the cutting.

 

They don’t talk much, at least not about things that matter. When they do talk, it’s usually about work. Ashlyn knows that Ali should talk about the deeper issue, the reason she’s there in the first place, maybe not with Ashlyn but with someone – anyone. So one night, she broaches the subject gently.

 

“Have you told your parents?”

 

“Told them what?” Ali replies.

 

“About Paul.”

 

“I told my brother. And I’ll probably tell my parents soon. Part of me keeps waiting for him to come back.”

 

“Why did he leave? If you don’t mind me asking.”

 

Ali sighs. “It’s fine. We basically  dated for, like, five years. Through all of law school and two years after.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well he wouldn’t marry me. He wouldn’t even ask. Every time I even broached the subject he would clam up or get busy.”

 

“What a dick,” Ashlyn snorts.

 

“He’s really nice, and he was always good to me. I mean, we moved in together. He never cheated on me,” Ali says softly.

 

“Doing the bare minimum doesn’t make him a good partner.”

 

“I know, I know that. I really do know. And the thing is,” Ali says, hesitating for a moment. “When our fighting started to really pick up, when I really wanted him to marry me, I figured out it wasn’t even because I _wanted_ him like that anymore. I wanted him to marry me because I wanted him to just fucking. Follow through.”

 

When Ashlyn looks at her, Ali has tears in her eye she’s furiously blinking back.

  
“And it’s so stupid because I make more money than him, I’m more successful than him, I’m a better _person_ than him, I just wanted him to think I was worth it.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn says, reaching for Ali across the kitchen, placing a hand on her shoulder. Ali folds into her, letting a quiet cry out into Ashlyn’s chest when Ashlyn wraps her arms around her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

 

“No. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Ali says, pulling away and wiping her face. “Let’s eat.”

 

They eat together, Ashlyn keeping a careful eye on Ali to see if she’s going to start crying again. Halfway through, Ali puts her fork down and looks up.

 

“Can I ask why you’re here? Why you’ve been here for the last two weeks? I’m not fun, I’ve been mean to you for the last year. All you do is cook me dinner and watch movies with me.”

 

“I mean, honestly, I don’t know if I could handle listening to your sob into your pillow one more night,” Ashlyn says, smirking.

 

“I’m serious!”

 

“It made me sad to see you sad, Al. I’ve been through bad breakups before and I could use someone who would just listen to me. So if I can be that for you, I consider it a victory.”

 

“That’s very sweet of you.”

 

“Oh I know.” Ashlyn winks. “Can I ask why you were so mean to me? For, like, almost a full fucking year? Some of the shit you gave me was absolutely ridiculous.”

 

“You mean like the skateboard?”

 

“It was a longboard.”

 

“Okay, the longboard. And the party. And the loud music.”

“And the time you banged on the wall because you could hear me with someone even though I had to listen to your mediocre sex for months.”

 

Ali shrugs. “You’re intimidating."

 

“How the hell am I intimidating?”

 

“Ugh,” Ali groans, burying her face in one hand. “You’ve just got those tattoos all over you and you’re like, loud. And beautiful. And strong. And you own a coffee shop and have cool friends. And everyone likes you. I’m used to very clean cut people and you’re… not.”

 

“Everyone likes me because I’m nice," Ashlyn says, pointedly ignoring the fact that what Ali is describing sounds very much like a crush. "Not because I'm hot. That helps."

 

“I know. And that's even more annoying!”

 

“I’m sorry for saying all that stuff about your orgasms, that was out of line,” Ashlyn says, sheepish.

 

“It’s not like it wasn’t true,” Ali laughs, before growing somber again. “I’m sorry for being so terrible.”

 

“I can forgive you, I think. I’m sorry too. You’re basically letting me live in your apartment.”

 

“It’s better than living alone,” Ali sighs, but the corner of her mouth turns up when Ashlyn raises her eyebrows. “Plus you cook for me, which is always a positive.”

 

“There are worse people to cook for,” Ashlyn says, shoving her gently.

 

\--

 

Three months after the breakup, it’s hard for Ashlyn to even believe that she could’ve fostered any hard feelings for Ali. Ashlyn is no longer over every night, but Ali has come by a few times and they have a standing date Wednesday nights for a movie and dinner. Some days, Ali will come into the coffee shop during work, even though she works across town. She’ll loiter around the counter, talking to Ashlyn while she makes coffee. She’ll linger almost too long, rushing out towards the end of her lunch hour.

 

When their hands brush, whether it’s while they’re cooking or cleaning up or just passing a cup of coffee over the counter, Ashlyn has to stifle the way her stomach jumps. And when they share a blanket, curled up on the couch Ali bought one month after the breakup, and Ali presses her cold feet against Ashlyn’s legs just to hear her squeal, Ashlyn wonders if Ali’s doing the same thing. And maybe it’s all in her head that Ali seems to linger, the way her words seem to have a different meaning as time goes on.

 

Like when Ashlyn takes her shopping for new furniture at Ikea and industriously scribbles down Swedish names on a notepad before helping her carry everything to the car. Maybe it’s just in Ashlyn’s head that Ali gripping her bicep and sweetly singing “You’re the best!” means more than “You’re such a great friend!”

 

Or when they go for dinner two months in, and the waiter doesn’t even _ask_ if they want two checks and just brings one, and when Ashlyn reaches for it, Ali pulls it away before she can look. Maybe that’s just a friendly gesture, a thank you for spending so much time with her.

 

And when Ashlyn invites her over for a party, kind of sheepish considering the last time they met at one of her parties, Ali hugs her. And when she pulls away, her hand stays on Ashlyn’s neck, fingers resting on the base of it before telling her she’d love to come. Ashlyn feels her there for the rest of the day. On the day of, Ashlyn goes out of her way to make it more special, a little bit cleaner and a lot safer, with better music.

 

“Is Ali coming tonight?” Whit asks, as Ashlyn and her put away anything that could break during the night.

 

“I asked her to come, I’m not sure if she will.”

 

“Considering she has a big gay crush on you,” Whit says, laughing. “I’m sure she’ll come.”

 

“She’s my friend,” Ashlyn says, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.

 

Ashlyn fires a text to Ali. _Coming tonight?_ It’s already gone before she realizes the double meaning. A few moments later, Ali replies.

 

_Wouldn’t miss it!_

“You should put the moves on her,” Whit mumbles.

 

“She’s my friend.”

 

“I doubt she’d object.”

 

And so when Ali shows up, fashionably late, Ashlyn is there to hand her a drink. “So glad you came!”

 

Ali beams. “It’s very different than when I was last at one of these.”

 

“It’s very different when you’re invited.”

 

Ali takes the drink from her, sipping it before cringing. “Is this beer?”

 

Ashlyn turns red. “I'm not good at mixing drinks and I didn’t want to make you something gross.”

 

“Well beer is kind of gross.”

 

“Then what can I make you?”

 

Ali smiles. “Just show me where your bottles are.”

 

Ashlyn spends most of the night at Ali’s side, even when she’s talking to other people, she tries to keep Ali no more than an arm’s length away. Ali makes friends fast, and even though she doesn’t seem like the type to fall in with the edgy, tattooed people Ashlyn surrounds herself with, she manages to grab the attention of the room.

 

She also drinks. Like, a _lot._ And Ashlyn tries to keep up, but there’s only so may shots one girl can do. And Ali can do more. So when midnight rolls around, Ali’s arm slung across Ashlyn’s shoulders, Ashlyn’s soberer than her but not by much.

 

“Do you want to walk me home?” Ali says, her lips against Ashlyn’s ear.

 

“Down the hall?” Ashlyn replies, eyebrows raised.

 

“Please.”

 

And so, Ashlyn rests her hand on the small of Ali’s back, guiding her through the crowded apartment and into the hall. She walks Ali down the hall, slowly, their footsteps echoing in the too bright hallway.

 

“This is your stop,” Ashlyn says as they grind to a halt in front of Ali’s apartment door.

 

“Do you want to come in? It’s quieter in there,” Ali murmurs, fiddling with her key to get the door open.

 

“I’m the host next door, Alex,” Ashlyn replies halfheartedly.

 

“Okay but look at me,” Ali says, spinning in the doorway to face Ashlyn and nearly losing her footing as she goes. “Shouldn’t you make sure I get to bed okay?”

 

Ashlyn laughs, realizing it’s maybe a little too loud.

 

“Ash. I’m serious,” Ali says, her voice firm. “Come inside.”

 

Ashlyn enters hesitantly. “Do you want me to get you a glass of water?” She goes to the cupboards she’s become so familiar with over the last few months, pulling glasses from the shelves and filling them with water from the fridge.

 

“That’d be good,” Ali says from the counter she’s leaning on. Ashlyn tries to avert her eyes when she sees the way Ali is postured, her shirt hanging off her chest. She’s biting her lip and Ashlyn can feel blood rushing to places they definitely _shouldn’t_ be rushing.

 

Ashlyn clears her throat, handing the glass to Ali, who drinks it in a few quick gulps.

 

“Come here,” Ali murmurs, smirking at Ashlyn shifting back and forth on her heels. “I have to tell you something.”

 

And so Ashlyn sidles closer, and Ali wraps her arms around Ashlyn’s neck.

 

“You have been so good to me for the last few months, Ashlyn,” she says, her voice low. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Ashlyn says with a smirk.

 

“I mean it,” Ali whispers, her eyes locked on Ashlyn’s lips. “You came over in the beginning and then you were over all the time and you never made me, like, explain. Until I was ready. And then you cooked with me and you watch movies with me. And you invite me places. And you’re so… nice. And sweet. Even when I wasn’t.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” Ashlyn says, hyperaware of Ali’s fingers playing with her hair. “I’m glad I could help.”

 

“I was wondering though,” Ali says, sheepishly. “If you were ever going to get the hint.”

Ashlyn raises an eyebrow. “Which hint?”

 

“Am I really that bad at being subtle?” Ali says, before pressing herself hard against Ashlyn, turning her head when their lips meet. Ashlyn’s hands find Ali’s waist, holding her in place as they kiss. Ashlyn feels a relief she didn’t know she needed as Ali’s lips part against hers, her tongue sliding across Ashlyn’s bottom lip. When she pulls away, Ali looks at her expectantly.

 

“Alex we’re drunk.”

 

“I don’t need… anything special from you tonight,” Ali says softly, running her hands down Ashlyn’s shoulders and over her chest. “Unless you want to. But if you want to spend the night with me. Not, like, _with me_ with me. But next to me. That’d be nice. You’ll sleep better here than you would if you waited for everyone to leave.”

 

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” Ashlyn murmurs, still able to feel Ali’s lips against hers.

 

“It’s a good thing you live close,” Ali laughs in reply, biting her bottom lip. “Go get what you sleep in and I’ll still be here when you get back.”

 

Ashlyn breaks land speed records threading through the people in her apartment, tugging a pair of gym shorts and a t shirt from her drawers and nearly colliding with Whitney on the way out.

 

“I’m going to spend the night with Ali,” Ashlyn all but pants.

 

“See, I told you to make a move!” Whit says, shoving her shoulder.

 

“No, no, it’s not like that!”

 

“Sure it’s not.”

 

“If it was like that, would I have this?” Ashlyn says, holding up the clothes in her hand. “I’m going there to sleep with her. Next to her.” She’s painfully aware of how the words sound coming from her mouth, slurred and probably frantic.

 

Whit smirks. “Good luck, Ash.”

 

When Ashlyn gets back, locking the door behind her, Ali is already in her bedroom, in sweatpants and a t shirt, already half asleep.

 

“Do you… want me to sleep in here?” Ashlyn says softly. Ali opens her eyes and Ashlyn is blown away with how _soft_ she looks.

 

“Please,” Ali coos, running her hand over the empty bed beside her. “Come here.”

 

Ashlyn does as she’s told, changing in the bathroom and carefully folding her clothes before climbing in bed hesitantly beside Ali.

 

“You don’t have to stay a foot away,” Ali whispers, her back to Ashlyn. “I wouldn’t ask you to sleep with me if I wanted you to sleep so far away.”

 

So Ashlyn inches over, carefully, and Ali grabs her hand, guiding it onto her hip, right where her t-shirt rides up, as Ashlyn rolls onto her side. Ali is soft, her skin is warm under Ashlyn’s hand, and Ashlyn can’t help but wonder what the rest of her would feel like underneath her. She clears her throat, trying to shake the thought from her head.

 

Ali curls into her, her back against Ashlyn’s chest. She can almost hear her smirking smugly.

 

“Are you doing okay?” Ali says.

 

“How could I not be?” Ashlyn replies softly.

 

“Smooth.”

“You know I am,” Ashlyn murmurs, considering closing her eyes to sleep before kissing the back of Ali’s neck gently. Ali sighs softly, pressing back against Ashlyn while Ashlyn’s grip on her waist tightens a bit. Before she knows it, Ali’s rolled on her back, her eyes half shut.

 

“Kiss me,” Ali says, her voice low but ragged, and Ashlyn does, rolling on top of her and positioning herself between Ali’s thighs before kissing her. It’s soft at first, gentle, and Ali tastes like hard liquor and soda, but when her hands tangle in Ashlyn’s hair, tugging her down as her lips part, her teeth catch on Ali’s bottom lip and the resulting sound is deeply satisfying. Ali thrusts her hips up against Ashlyn’s, and through the thin fabric of her own shorts she can feel her getting wet.

 

“Is this something you want?” Ashlyn says, clearing her throat and her head as Ali’s hands travel down her neck and chest, before slipping to her waist and under her t-shirt.

 

“Yes, Ashlyn,” Ali says, her voice firm as she tugs the t-shirt over her head. “Please.”

 

“Have you ever done… this before?” Ashlyn gets out, as Ali presses at her shoulder, flipping them so that Ashlyn is on her back. Ali peppers kisses down Ashlyn’s neck before nodding.

 

“Just because I dated a man for long time doesn’t mean I was never with a woman,” Ali says, nipping at the base of Ashlyn’s neck.

 

“I’m just,” Ashlyn gets out before Ali’s hand trails up the inside of her thighs and over her shorts. “Checking.”

 

When Ali makes Ashlyn come once, twice, a third time, Ashlyn’s glad she’s in bed and not on the other side of the wall. And then when she returns the favor, bringing Ali over the edge until she’s so sensitive even just the feeling of Ashlyn’s breath on her clit elicits a moan, she’s twice as grateful she’s not hearing it from her bedroom. 

 

Ali curls against Ashlyn when they’re done, both of them slightly sweaty but not enough for them to care.

 

“Is this just, like, a bouncing back type of thing?” Ashlyn whispers into Ali’s neck.

 

“No,” Ali replies softly.

 

“Do you want to, like, try this?”

 

“Try what?”

 

“Being with me? Being mine?”

 

“Only if you want to be mine.”

 

“There are worse people to be with,” Ashlyn says, laughing softly. Ali slaps the tattooed arm thrown across her waist.

 

“Watch it.”

“But seriously,” Ashlyn says, closing her eyes. “I wouldn’t mind trying this. Moving this past just being friends who used to hate each other.”

 

“Does girlfriends who used to hate each other sound better?” Ali laughs, her voice slowing down as she falls asleep.

 

“Way better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! All the love.


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